


The Proof in the Pudding

by UnderwaterNearHome



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Come on, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, I mean, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, No Smut, Past Child Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, The Jeffersonian - Freeform, The Jeffersonian Institution, The Proof in the Pudding, forensic anthropologist, i wish, scientist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25369504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderwaterNearHome/pseuds/UnderwaterNearHome
Summary: "Yeah, you know, I'll tell you those are-" Brennan sits down, eyeing him carefully, "-a couple of big guys.""Ah." He remarks, hissing a bit and turning to her."Did you figure out who the dead guy is yet?" Brennan glances down at the platform."Hodgins and Cam are convinced its John F. Kennedy." Booth's attention spikes and he tilts his head, listening."The 35th president of the United States who was assassinated on November 22nd, 1963." She continues."I know- I know who J.F.K is." Bones leans forward, lowering her voice a bit."Also, Cam is certain that Michelle is pregnant." Booth nods."Usually that would be big news, but right now it's- ah, not so much." Booth looks at Brennan." It's J.F.K?" Brennan nods, a tight lipped smile. Booth pauses and turns to her, a bit annoyed."Wait, was Hodgins the first to say that is was J.F.K?""Yes.""Then it's not J.F.K."____________It's literally the accurate written episode of 'The Proof In The Pudding' Except for it's all from the perspective of Agent Seeley Booth, it suggests he self harms, and it fills in the gaps between each scene cut.It's actually really good to be honest.
Relationships: Seeley Booth/Lance Sweets, Seeley Booth/Temperance Brennan
Kudos: 12





	The Proof in the Pudding

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for clicking. I rewatched this Episode around 14-15 times and analyzed each action, read the online script, everything.
> 
> It's word for word exact to the episode, the only difference is that whenever it cuts from, for example, Booth at a crime scene, to, for example, Booth at the FBI office. I fill in that time space blank. 
> 
> So it doesn't just go:
> 
> Booth sighed as he sat in the driver seat with Bones.  
> "Listen Bones, it's not normal ok? Can we stop talking about this?" Brennan nods her head and turns her attention to the road.  
> "Fine."
> 
> *Skip Time*
> 
> Booth seats himself at his desk, groaning.
> 
> Yeah, we don't do that here. I fill in the blank time with something I believe they would do, and I fill it in as Accurate as can be. 
> 
> As for the self harm part....here me out.
> 
> Booth's a soldier who's also a ex sniper who killed around 50 people. He was also abused as a kid and has a pretty shitty family, shitty girlfriends, I mean other than Brennan. He's fucked up. And your telling me he isn't even the tiniest bit depressed?!
> 
> Think on it. All he has is Parker....

Proof In The Pudding

FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth was smarter than anyone gave him credit for. He had to be smart to survive. Surprisingly, he was even good at numbers.  
How else could he calculate where and when to cut himself?  
That was the way he was smart, he knew people, he knew when he could manipulate said people, as well.  
But he made one mistake, to save the woman he loves, doesn't that sound like Seeley Booth? Hero amongst men, and, as it may be, women.  
It was a regular day, he had walked into Bones' office and left her a pizza, doing a little dance before walking out. He had expected nothing much that day, lunch, some paperwork, and back to struggling to sleep every night.  
But now he's grabbing his gun, and throwing on some regular clothes. All getting ready to break into the Jeffersonian.  
What a life he lives.

His hands were shaking a bit as he walked up to the front doors. He was crouched and pressing his body against the wall, listening in. They couldn't do this to his people, he had to get in.  
Booth presses away from the wall and tiptoes forward, opening the door and holding his breath. He hears four voices, two to his left, two to the right. If he was careful enough, he could pick the perfect moment, and he'd be able to slip right past them.  
Careful.  
He takes a step forward before opening the second door, breathing shallow as he did so. He tilts his head and turns it to a certain angle, he can now see the feet of the two men to his left, and one pair of feet to his right.  
The first pair of feet to his left are tapping to a synchronized beat, the other pair of feet to his left are perfectly still. One of them are nervous, needs to distract himself.  
As much as he hated Psychology, he had to hand it to Sweets, sometimes the kid was right. Booth takes a breath before opening the door and turning, he can now see all of the men completely. And miraculously, he was right. The first man on the left is substantially weaker, smaller, and softer looking than any of the other men. Booth even had a bit of a hard time believing this man could merely stand beside the others.  
The second man on the right, the one Booth can now see, is lighting a cigarette, his back turned to the others. Booth smirks before looking over at the other men. They don't notice it yet.  
Time to shine.  
Booth retracts to behind a small blind spot behind the glass double doors and uses his index finger to lightly tap the glass twice. Just as he hoped, all the men's ears perked up as they looked around, finally noticing the smoker. Booth listens closely.  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The man smoking tenses like a deer caught in headlights, Booth resists the urge to laugh as the man panics and drops the cigarette. All three of the other men quickly make their way over and grab the cigarette.  
Too easy.  
Booth advances, opening the door slowly and tiptoeing towards the lab, successfully making it past the meatheads at the entrance. I mean, it was just too easy to get past them, it's almost like they wanted him to break in.  
Booth walks up carefully to the electronic glass doors and fits his fingers into the grooves of the door. He takes a deep breath before applying force and trying to pry the pieces apart.  
"Ow." He mutters to himself, pulling his fingers away. He looks up at the platform and waves his hands.  
"Come on." He knocks on the glass, looking over at them. He can hear the door beeping, making panic rise within him. Come on Bones. He looks around defeated.  
I need inside.  
The Beeping gets faster and he pulls his gun out of his waist band, closing his eyes, taking a step back, and pulling the trigger.  
He listens to the glass shatter and he bites his lip to stop himself from jumping. A few pieces rain down on him. He pulls his hand to his side and steps over the broken door, shaking off any remaining glass as he steps in.  
"Booth!" Brennan says, turning to the noise. Booth grins and holds his gun out, surrendering as he walks forward.  
"Hiya, Bones!" He remarks as he takes another step forward, his hands in the air.  
Booth hears the heavy footsteps running towards him and he stops moving, standing still and waiting for the impact. The two men tackle him to the ground. The gun slinging away.  
"Booth." Brennan says, looking a bit concerned.  
"Bones." Booth says in a high pitched voice. He was expecting it, but damn did it hurt. Mr. White sighs deeply and turns around, walking away as his men raise themselves off of Booth.  
"I'll uh...I'll get an ice pack." Cam says, pulling her gloves off and walking away, her heels clicking. Booth grunts as the men get off of him, yanking Booth up with them.  
"Thanks, big guy." Booth mutters, pulling a piece of glass out of his hair. Brennan sighs and turns to Hodgins.  
The men grab Booth tightly and he grunts.  
"Woah, I think I can take him." Sweets says, stepping forward hesitantly. Booth rips his arm out of the other men's hands and rubs it.  
"Actually, I think I can take care of myself. Thank you." Booth says, glaring at the guy who tackled him. The familiar clicking sound of heels come back and Booth turns his attention to it.  
"Ice pack, thanks Camille." He says, grinning at her, she smiles back and shakes her head.  
"You should probably go sit down."  
"Yeah." He says, limping a bit as he makes his way to the stairs.  
"I'll be on the balcony if you- ow- need me." Booth says, limping up the stairs. Cam smiles and Sweets turns to each of the other scientists, all exchanging glances.  
Booth has just finally relaxed himself when a voice brings him back to the world.  
"Are you alright?" He nods and responds quicker than he imagined. He knew she would ask.  
"Yeah, you know, I'll tell you those are-" Brennan sits down, eyeing him carefully, "-a couple of big guys."  
"Ah." He remarks, hissing a bit and turning to her.  
"Did you figure out who the dead guy is yet?" Brennan glances down at the platform.  
"Hodgins and Cam are convinced its John F. Kennedy." Booth's attention spikes and he tilts his head, listening.  
"The 35th president of the United States who was assassinated on November 22nd, 1963." She continues.  
"I know- I know who J.F.K is." Bones leans forward, lowering her voice a bit.  
"Also, Cam is certain that Michelle is pregnant." Booth nods.  
"Usually that would be big news, but right now it's- ah, not so much." Booth looks at Brennan.  
" It's J.F.K?" Brennan nods, a tight lipped smile. Booth pauses and turns to her, a bit annoyed.  
"Wait, was Hodgins the first to say that is was J.F.K?"  
"Yes."  
"Then it's not J.F.K."  
"No- Hodgins is an excellent scientist-" Brennan's attention transitions to behind him. Booth turns his head and looks.  
"Hey Hey, Mr. White!" Booth says, grinning at the man above him.  
"How'd you get past the guards?" Booth smirks and glances at Brennan.  
"Uh, sniper training, they trained me how to walk, really really quiet." Booth says, pulling the ice pack from his head.  
"You are now restricted to the building of course." Mr White says, looking around before his eyes land back on Booth.  
"Damn." Booth says, sitting up and smiling at the man, "Who saw that coming? He remarks, smirking. Mr. White rolls his eyes before turning and walking away. Booth grins and turns to Brennan. Brennan returns the look, both exchanging glances that said much more than their words could have.  
"Well I better go check on Hodgins." Booth nods, relaxing into the couch.  
"Yeah, I'll be down there in a bit." Brennan nods to him and stands up, walking away.  
Booth groans out as he moves his body in a way that makes his head ache a bit. They really were big dudes.  
Booth pulls the ice cube away and sighs, sitting up, despite being tackled, he's glad he broke in. He stands up, waddling over to the rails and leaning over them, watching everyone. He watches Brennan move about the platform, stuck inside her head as she did. She grabs a bunch of little things and talks to Hodgins.  
Booth groans out as his head starts to ache again, he sits down and slides his feet under the rails, letting them hang as he watched.  
The familiar chime of his phone brought his attention back to reality and he grabbed it up, putting it to his ear and resting his arm over the rail in front of him.  
"Any luck finding out what's going on?" He asks, already having a good idea of who it was.  
"Nobody knows anything, Whatever this is, it's locked down pretty tight. You have any idea who these guys are?" Booth bites his lip and looks over at the big guy beside Brennan as he answers.  
"Nah they took me down to Classic Secret Service Protocol."  
"Secret Service? Do yourself a favor, don't tell any Reagan jokes or mention the Bush shoe incident. They get really mad." Hacker replies.  
"Right, you have any contacts inside of the white house?" Booth asks, rolling his eyes.  
" Of course I do, I'm extremely well connected and I'm insulted, you'd even ask that question." The phone beeps and Booth sighs, pulling the phone from his ear and looking at it before snapping it shut. He looks down, staring at Mr. White, knowing he had been listening. The man walks out, hands in his pockets and Booth sends a little wave.  
The man scoffs and walks away, Booth sighs and rubs the back of his neck. Damn, it still hurts.  
Booth lowers his head and closes his eyes, he wasn't expecting today to be today, it was one of the few days he had it easy.  
He looks down, expecting to see Brennan on the platform staring at Bones, but she's not there. A bit of panic rises in his chest and he pulls his legs out from under the rail. Where'd she go, she was right there!  
Booth stands up, quickly wiping dust off his pants in one swift motion and pocketing his phone. He speedily walks to the stairs and makes his way down them, looking around.  
"Bones?" He asks, he hears a clack of heels and he looks over.  
"Cam?" She stops in her place in front of him and offers a tight lipped smile.  
"Yes?" Booth looks around.  
"Have you seen Bones?" Cam slowly nods her head and then takes a deep breath and then points in a direction.  
"That's actually why I'm here, you might wanna come see this." She says, starting to walk away, Booth glances at the platform before following her as they walk towards Angela's office.  
Cam takes her place beside Brennan and Booth stands beside her. They all look at the screen, Booth immediately shakes his head.  
"That is not J.F.K."  
"Kennedy was on steroids to treat Addison's disease, it's what wrecked his back and adrenals." Hodgins says, crossing his arms.  
"Well, that would create a more cushingoid appearance." Cam says, staring at the screen.  
They all turn and look as Mr. White walks in.  
"You are not permitted to identify the victim." He says looking at the screen. Brennan leans forward to look at him.  
"In order to recreate what happened to the skull, we need to incase it in flesh."  
"It's totally nondescript, as you can see." Angela says, nodding towards the screen. Sweets turns to the man and then looks at the screen.  
"You know who I kind of see? Ricky Martin." Hodgins nods, leaning back.  
"Alex Trebek." Hodgins adds. Cam grins.  
"James Garner." She says.  
Brennan smiles and glances at Booth.  
"I see Booth." Booth's eyebrows furrow and he leans forward to look at Brennan.  
"You think that looks like me?"  
"Yes. I do." Booth pauses and looks at the screen, a bit confused, before shaking it off.  
"I'll be in the bone room, looking at the actual skull." Brennan says, walking off. Booth crosses his arms and bites his lip.  
"At least it wasn't something that bad." He mutters, Cam's grin widens and she turns to him.  
"True." She says as she walks out. Angela starts to tap on her tablet and Booth walks out, heading for the bone room.  
Booth looks around nervously before stepping inside.  
"Hey." He whispers walking towards Brennan, "So, it was J.F.K, Angela's facial reconstruction would have shown us this, right?" Booth asks, watching her as she pulls the lens to a spot on the skull.  
"No. Facial reconstructions are not photographs, Booth. There's a wide latitude for interpretation." Booth sighs and turns as Brennan moves the lense and stares at it.  
"There." Booth turns his attention back to her and looks over as she points to a spot on the skull.  
"This could be the point of entry. The semicircle is beveled, wider on the inside than the outside."  
" That was the entry?" Booth asks, leaning over and looking at where Brennan's finger is.  
"If-if the victim was shot from the rear, yes. The beveling is usually like an arrow, pointing toward the shooter. As to the exit, we're missing some skull fragments." She explains, glancing at Booth.  
"Maybe they were held back on purpose." Booth says, putting his hands on his hips.  
"Possibly, but it's much more likely they were pulverized and scattered by the bullet impact. Forensic techniques in the early '60s were relatively primitive." Booth nods.  
"Check above the right temple on the skull or a fragment from there."  
"Ha! So suddenly you're an expert on ballistic forensics?" Brennan asks, looking over at him.  
"That's where JFK's exit wound was." Booth says, biting his lip again.  
"Why do you know so much about the Kennedy assassination?"  
"Bones, I'm a trained sniper. How quickly you forget." He says, staring at her fingers as she moves the lense to look.  
"Well, well, you were right about the exit." "Whew. Right. Well, it doesn't mean it's the president. I mean, people get shot in the head all the time, right?" Booth asks, leaning back in relief.  
"That's true. Or perhaps Angela can re-create the situation under which this wound occurred." Brennan says, looking over at Booth.  
"Or she could re-create JFK's shooting so we can rule him out, right?" Brennan's eyes light up a bit and she smiles,  
"Huh." She responds, turning back to the Bones.  
Booth nods his head to himself and walks out of the room. Mr. White comes around the corner, looking at Booth. Booth pauses and smiles.  
"Mr. White." Mr. White scowls and glares at Booth.  
"Agent Booth, I'd like you to know that we did a background check on all of you." Booth nods, his smile never fading.  
"Which means," Mr. White steps closer until Booth can feel the man's breath fan his ear, "I have your medical records." Booth tenses, his whole body involuntarily pausing in his movements. Mr. White smirks and backs away, walking past Booth.  
"Think about it." Mr. White hollars back, making Booth grind his teeth together. Shit.  
He turns around and stares at Mr. White as he leaves, anger coursing through his veins. He knows if Mr. White said even a word about it, he'd kill the man.  
"Agent Booth?" Booth turns around and looks at Sweets, biting his lip and glaring daggers into the man.  
"Back off, Sweets." Booth seethes, storming away and into Angela's office, by the time he's in there, he's managed to calm himself.  
"Good, you're here, Brennan told me. She'll be here in a second."  
"That was quick." Booth mutters, leaning against the table and waiting.  
As soon as Brennan walks in, Angela starts.  
"I requested this animation from the Justice Department."  
"I found a right-rear entry with an exit in the right parietal region." Brennan adds, watching the short animation.  
"Kennedy wounds exactly." Hodgins remarks, staring at the screen in awe.  
"Right. So his head went back and to the left." Angela says, pointing to the screen.  
"Look, heads do all sorts of crazy things when you shoot 'em." Booth remarks, glancing at Hodgins.  
"Since this is based on the official record, I can't believe it." And there it is, Booth clasps his hands together  
"Here we go."  
"You think there's no way the president of the United States gets murdered in public in broad daylight and, and the truth gets covered up?"  
"That's right. It doesn't happen. This is America."  
"The highest form of patriotism is to be skeptical of the official truth. That is why the First Amendment, free speech, is first in the Constitution you would die to protect. The lone gunman version isn't possible. The guy in front, John Connolly, gets shot 1.6 seconds after Kennedy."  
"It's a piece of cake."  
"With a World War II Italian rifle that was older than Lee Harvey Oswald? Come on." Booth stands up, arms crossed.  
"I'm sorry, but have you ever shot a rifle? If I had one of those guns right now, I'd show you right now.  
"You're on."  
"No one is allowed to leave the Jeffersonian." Brennan adds, glancing between them both.  
"No, we don't have to leave. I know exactly where to find an exact replica of the rifle here at the Jeffersonian."  
"Great." Booth responds, smirking. Hodgins and Booth glare at one another for a few more seconds.  
"I'll be following you then." Booth says, nodding to the door. Hodgins perks up and moved to the door.  
"Yes, right." He says as Booth follows him.  
"Sweets." Booth whispers to the kid, Sweets turns, surprised. He speeds over, whispering.  
"Yeah?"  
"Come with us." Hodgins says, walking, Booth and Sweets follow.  
"Lee Harvey Oswald's rifle is in the Jeffersonian but the FBI used an exact replica to re-create the assassination. We've got that down in storage." Hodgins whispers, coming to a halt."  
"But they said we have to stay in the lab area." Sweets remarks, tilting his head to look at a guard.  
"The janitor's closet is in the lab area." Hodgins pulls out a small cloth, "Okay, all right, a couple years ago, right? I check out the claims of this conspiracy group that says that the Jeffersonian was a Masonic construction. They said that there was a passageway. Well, it turns out to be true. Check this out. There's a fake wall in the janitor's closet, covers a ladder." Hodgins says, grinning like a kid on Christmas.  
"So, what? We just sneak in one by one? Hope they don't see us?" Sweets asks, looking away from the guard.  
"Yeah. You got a better idea?" Hodgins asks.  
"Sounds good to me." Booth replies, walking off. Sweets pat's Booth and Hodgins.  
"Wait, so who goes when?" Hodgins looks at Booth and Booth shrugs in return.  
"Sweets, you go first." He says, patting Sweets back and walking away.  
He walks over to beside the stairs and sits, waiting. His head down to the floor as he watches Sweets walk inside. He has 5 minutes before he walks in, 5 minutes.  
5 minutes of peace. Booth squats and sits on the bottom step, leant over with his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair.  
What the hell am I gonna do about Mr. White? Booth shakes his head and rubs his eyes. He almost wishes he wouldn't have come. They didn't need him anyway, did they?  
Booth raises his head and looks down at his forearm. The one of which held his hatred. That expressed how he felt about the gift of life.  
Seeley Booth was known to be the tough savior, the prince that saved his damsel in distress.  
Booth glances across the room at Brennan as she stared at some sort of bone piece.  
His damsel in distress, how much was she worth?  
Booth groans and puts his head in his hands.  
Would they be worse off if he had just never came? Would he always need to be the hero? Couldn't he just leave? It's not like they could hold him, he was a fire cracker.  
Booth stands up, he assumes it's been long enough. He walks towards the Janitors closet calmly, opens the door, and walks in.  
"Let's go." He murmurs to Sweet's as he pulls back the fake wall covering and grabs the ladder. Sweets nods and waits until he's at the bottom to climb down.  
"So I, uh, used the fact that Mr. White was eavesdropping on us to sow the seeds of discord." Sweets says, breaking the silence, Booth turns to him.  
"What?"  
"You know, I lodged in his subconscious that his men don't respect him."  
"Sweets, these guys are pros. You didn't lodge anything or sow any seeds."  
"Oh, wow. Hope Hodgins' map is accurate." Sweets replies, opening up the minute map. "Okay, so the JFK investigation stuff is over there. Sweets says, glancing down at the map.  
"Okay, I'm gonna say something that's gonna make you think that I'm as paranoid as Hodgins."  
"Okay" Booth replies, looking around.  
"This feels like a test to me."  
"Who's being tested?"  
"I don't know. The men in black suits? Dr. Brennan? Dr. Saroyan? You?"  
"Me?" Booth asks, glancing at Sweets.  
"Yeah, maybe even me. I don't know. It just feels like a test. I can't be more specific." Booth and Sweets turn the corner.  
"Is that it? '01033.' This is it."  
"There it is."  
"Is that the actual weapon?"  
"Yeah. It's a perfect replica made by the FBI." "Perhaps the most hated weapon in United States history." Booth cocks the gun and hands it to Sweets.  
"Hold it close, Hodgins is our distraction." Sweets nods and hands Booth the map, he pockets it and they both head back for the door in silence.  
Booth climbs the ladder, holding out his hand for the rifle, Sweets hands him it as he climbs the ladder.  
"Okay, wall replaced." Booth turns to look at Sweets and hands him the rifle.  
"Remember, hold it close, make it blend." Booth repeats as he opens the janitor door. Sweets presses it against his body as they both sneak out of the closet.  
"Um... you can't stop me because I'm an American. So, I've got rights." Booth glances at Hodgins before pushing Sweets along.  
"Go set it down in Angela's office." He whispers to Sweets before retreating back to Hodgins.  
"I'd rather not hurt you." Mr. White replies, stepping towards Hodgins.  
"Hey, nice job with Bush and the whole flying shoe incident, by the way. I want to compliment you on that one." Hodgins turns away and Mr. White punches him in his back, Booth steps forward, curling his fists.  
"Hey, you want to try me instead of some bigmouth scientist, huh?" Mr. White glances at Booth before walking away, "Yeah. I thought so." Booth walks up to Hodgins, grabbing his arm.  
"Come on." He mutters, pulling Hodgins up.  
"That Bush comment? To him? You're lucky he didn't paralyze you for life." Hodgins Groans in pain and grabs his back.  
"Easy." Booth says, steadying Hodgins as he pulls him along.  
"I gotta go get Bones. Booth whispers to Hodgins as he helps him sit down on the bottom steps.  
"Why?" Hodgins asks, groaning in the process.  
"I need a distraction."  
"Oh. Yeah." Hodgins says, sighing as he holds his back.  
"Tell Sweets to set it on the bridge up there." He says, patting Hodgins and jogging to the Bone room.  
"Hey, guys, guys, listen. I'm gonna need some science, uh, jibber jabber to distract these guys." Booth says, walking in. Bones turns to him.  
"Oh, you know who can do jibber jabber?"  
"Who?" Booth asks, grinning slightly.  
"Me." Brennan says, grinning.  
Booth smiles widely and gestrustres for her to come with him, "Perfect. My lucky day."  
"Come on. All right." He says, pulling Brennan along.  
Cam follows after them as Booth and Brennan walk up to Mr. White.  
"We want to shoot that cantaloupe over there." Brennan says, Mr. White furrows his brows, looks at Booth and slowly walks over to the cantaloupe, grabbing it.  
"You want my permission to shoot a cantaloupe?" He says, playing with it in his hands.  
"Yes." Brennan says.  
"With my sidearm?" He asks, looking up at her. "You took away Agent Booth's firearm." She replies looking over at him.  
"You want our best work? This is what we do." Cam replies, nodding at him.  
"And this experiment is essential to cause of death?" Mr. White asks, looking over at Brennan.  
"Because you have forbidden us from taking samples in order to estimate the osteoconductivity of the oblique taphonomic remodeling, pertaining to the mid-sagittal plane, encelphalametric transaction or translation, if you will, of the intermatrix can be deduced by correlating the force/displacement values with the osteogenic, and geogenic, hydrogel nanocomposite we placed inside the surrogate." Brennan says, Booth's eyes widen a bit and he smiles. She's so smart.  
"Which is the cantaloupe." Mr. White replies, tossing the cantaloupe from one of his hands into the other.  
"You understand me perfectly." She replies with a hint of a smile.  
"How many bullets?"  
"Just one." Cam says, glancing at Booth. Booth stands up and Mr. White hands the cantaloupe to Brennan, takes out his gun and hands it to Booth - with only one bullet in it.  
"We'll be watching." He says, giving Booth a look.  
"Bring your popcorn." He replies, grinning at Mr. White.  
"Good work." He whispers to Brennan. Grabbing the gun and walking over to the steps. He makes it up the steps and to the correct balcony, noticing the rifle by his feet. His nerves course through him but he stands beside the balcony, his finger on the trigger. He's got to be fast.  
Booth looks over and sees the woman cover their ears. He takes a deep breath in  
"Ready?!" Hodgins calls out. Booth exhales.  
"Go!" He screams back. The machine starts up and the cart comes out.  
Booth drops the pistol, grabs the sniper and aims. The force tries to jolt his body but he stands perfectly still. He takes the shot and he flinches. He cocks it, letting the bullet she'll get escape.  
Again.  
Booth shoots, and he squints. When he opens his eyes, both pieces of fruit have been shot, dead on.  
Booth puts his arms out and glances at the men as I'd to say, 'well'?  
Everyone but the men in black smile, including Booth.  
Booth grins and sets the gun down by the pistol, dusting himself off and leaning against the balcony, flashing Mr. White a smirk.  
"Bone Room. Now." Mr. White says, walking down the stairs, his guards spreading out.  
Booth swallows the lump in his throat and goes down the stairs, All the others walking there as well. Booth is the last to get there.  
As soon as Booth arrives, Mr. White sends him a hard look.  
"I thought after I showed you my cards, you'd back down." Everyone in the room turns to Booth. Booths fists curl up and his chest starts to heave.  
"Shut the hell up." Booth seethes, stepping closer to Mr. White.  
"Booth? What is he talking about? Why are you showing such Aggression?" Booth grins.  
"It's nothing, ISN'T it Mr. White?" Booth asks, taking another step forward.  
"You're completely right, Agent Booth, Nothing but your medical records that show-" Booth pushes Mr. White harshly against the wall and everyone jolts.  
"Woah, Agent Booth. Calm down." Sweets says, putting his arms out in front of him. Booth shakes his head.  
"Say another word and I'll deck you." He says to Mr. White, Mr. White swallows before glancing at the rest of them.  
"Agent Booth, I-" Booth presses his forearm against the man's throat, "-think your scaring your friends." Booth closes his eyes tightly and looks down at the ground.  
"Don't." Booth says, tears coming to his eyes.  
"Booth? Medical records? Why are you so angry? What about your medical records?"  
"Can it, Bones." He says, glaring at Mr. White.  
"Don't say a word." Booth says, pulling away from Mr. White. Mr. White pulls his hand to his neck and adjusts his tie.  
"Agent Booth? Is there something we need to-"  
"Sweets." Sweets backs up as Agent Booth looks over at him, his eyes watering.  
"Please don't stick your nose into this." Everyone looks at Booth, shocked.  
"You know if they know they won't look at you the same." Booth's knuckles turn white and he turns his head to the side, closing his eyes like he's in pain.  
"Look at him the same? What did you do Booth?" Angela asks, looking at him, Brennan turns to Angela.  
"Something bad, something really bad." Brennan says.  
"Booth, whatever it is...I forgive you." Booth shakes his head turning his back to them all.  
"I don't forgive me, Bones. I-I." Booth sniffles and Mr. White sets his head down. Everyone looks at Booth, waiting.  
"-I still-I still do it." He whispers rubbing his eyes. Mr. White's mouth opens a bit and he steps forward.  
"Agent Booth- I didn't know you still- uh that you- that you still did it." Everyone turns to Mr. White and Booth shakes his head.  
"Please don't- Please don't tell them." Booth says, his back still turned to everyone.  
"Booth, please. We forgive you for whatever it is." Sweets clears his throat.  
"No offense to anyone but...I don't think you would be able to forgive him for what he did." Booth looks up and turns around. Only then does everyone see the tears rolling down Booth's cheeks.  
"You know?" Sweets sighs and shakes his head.  
"If it's what I think it is. I mean, why would you fear your own Medical Records? And you said you did something bad." Booth's fist clench and un-clench, everyone backs up, staring at Booth.  
Angela gasps, dropping her tablet.  
"Oh my God, Booth!" She says, tears starting to form in her eyes.  
"What?! What did he do?!" Brennan asks, looking around. Booth shakes his head.  
"I'm going to lock myself in the bathroom. When I leave, I don't care who tells who what." Booth says in a low tone, he wipes his eyes and walks out. Booth walks to the bathroom, crying.  
In October of 1987, I cut myself so deep I was hospitalized. I did it again years later, that last known date I was hospitalized for self harm was 2001. I managed to get it wiped out of the date base but law requires one copy of my complete medical record in the white house. Mr. White must have read it or seen it or whatever. As soon as he said that, I knew I had 4 cuts on myself currently. And I knew if it got out, I'd be better off dead.  
Booth groans as he sits on the bathroom toilet, waiting for the crying and gasps and all hell to break loose.  
Not because they loved him and cared, but because it's such a surprise that the happy go lucky tough guy FBI Agent, was weak.  
I...was weak.


End file.
